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Dune Part 2 - Blog Posts
Paul: 'im not the Messiah!'
Stilgar: 'that sounds like something the Messiah would say!'
think of the world we could have made.
close up under cut
That bald bitch kinda freaky
no wonder feyd passed his gom jabbar, he's been like an animal in a trap his whole life he's probably used to it.
Feyd Rautha is a femboy by Harkonnen gender presentation standards. No I will not be elaborating.
austin butler has become a jump scare in my life, like im for sure happy hes finding success but going from Dune 2 to Masters of the Air to Elvis... thats some range
I loved dune 2. Best movie I’ve seen in years, but the whole time all I could think of was the Sontarans from doctor who and the Harkonnens
Observe
Timothée Chalamet, Javier Bardem and Josh Brolin behind the scenes of Dune: Part Two
Twitter credit to asatcdune
Don't ever, ever listen to the jinn. The jinn? Jinn. Desert spirits. They whisper at night. They can posses you.
Bawling my eyes out 😭❤️🩹
#justice for Feyd!
#feydrautha
girldad!Feyd Headcanons
— WARNINGS: angst, but also fluff — A/N: In the canon, Feyd’s daughter with Margot was named Marie Fenring, and she dies a tragic death at quite a young age. This is going to be a completely self-indulgent fix-it. Enjoy ✨
Sure, he’s the most violent and unhinged madman this side of Gamma Waiping, but even Feyd knows there’s a time and place for everything.
The time being when the Atreides are defeated and the Emperor rewards him and he’s free to go after the Fenrings with his Harkonnen troops.
First, they find Count Hasimir, a frail little man with rodent-like features and thin greying hair. The Emperor’s oldest friend, and the best assassin in the known universe. Feyd knows better than to take him on in single combat, so he has his men deal with him while he goes after Margot.
He finds her in the furthest room of their castle past a cadre of guards that he makes short work of. She’s holding a little girl’s hand… Small and pale with thick dark ringlets, she looks just like he did as a child. He can tell even past the thick visor of the helm he wears — something made to not only protect but also block out sound. Margot knows it’s him just by his gait. She speaks, but it doesn’t matter. Her voice has no effect this time.
He sees the flash of a laser on the wall as his men join him and block the only exit. Feyd walks over to Margot, uncoils the little girl’s hand from hers, and takes her away. Lady Fenring will be brought to Kaitain to answer for her crimes against the once-young na-Baron. The Bene Gesserits, humbled after their near defeat on Arrakis, will not defend her actions — she has already served her purpose anyway.
The little girl looks up at him as they walk away with an unsettling and knowing light in her dark eyes. Feyd gazes down at her and, although she could not see his face, it was as if they’d always known each other.
But he also notices her little legs can hardly keep up with his stride. Oh, that’s right, children are smaller… He stops, kneels, and lifts her up into his arms as he carries her back to the ship.
He was actually nervous about taking off his helmet in front of her. What would she think of seeing a Harkonnen for the first time? They were so different from the soft and sunkissed people of the planet she was raised on…
But she had an eery calm to her even at the age of seven standard years. She regards him no differently than before and also does not acknowledge any need for reverence, even when he tells her who he is.
“Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.” “Hello.” “And what’s your name?” “Marie.”
He found himself genuinely shy when he informed her he was her father, and was all the more surprised to find an impish smile grow on her face. “I know.” Margot must have told her after all…
She doesn’t cry, she doesn’t seem afraid, but Feyd comforts her the whole way to their home planet. He pets her dark crown of curls as she sits beside him on the ship, supports her back when she drinks, and makes out of galactic maps the most unusual of toys to distract her with on the long journey back. None of it comes naturally to him and for the first time he has to think before he acts. It leaves his nerves rattled, but every time she looks up into his eyes and smiles so innocently he gains his calm again.
Giedi Prime was not the first place he had in mind for raising a child, but the other planets he could lay claim to — Lankiveil and Arrakis — were not great choices either. Now that he was Baron, this was where he had to be — at least until the Emperor decided who should govern Arrakis following the trouble with the Fremen. The Corrinos left a cadre of Mentats in charge to oversee the change for now.
She hates the planet at first, scrunching up her little face at the stark white light during the day, at the poisonous smoke, at the vast black wastes filled with petrol. Feyd engages an ecologist the first week Marie is there and plans a series of greenhouses for her with the best water filtration systems spice can buy.
“Why can’t the whole planet be like this?” she asks when he first shows it to her. They walk through young trees, Feyd dodging thin branches of raw red and green while his daughter skips ahead like a lamb. “Because it just can’t,” he mutters. “But why?” “Because it would cost too much.” “How much?” “I don’t know.” “Why not?”
A secret communication arrives to the Emperor inquiring whether he has room in his court for a new assassin now that Hasimir Fenring is gone.
His days are split between official duties, training in the arena, and playing with Marie. He discovers a part of himself again when he is with her — that innocent part that had been lost or buried when he first got to Giedi Prime. There is a satisfaction in making it for her a less brutal arrival, even a pleasant one.
He finds her laughing as she runs through the long halls, tugging on the lances of the guards — who look horrified at the sight of a playful child for the first time, but stay obediently still — and throwing rocks into the oil pools outside the palace to gawk at the pretty rainbow colours.
She loves the vaporous transparent gowns the servants wear, and the servants love her too. They dote on her, fearfully at first but more boldly when they notice Feyd’s approval. The retention rate goes up starkly at the palace, as does the average longevity.
Everyone is puzzled about what to do with her hair, but Marie teaches Feyd to braid it the way her mother did. She’s not shy about berating him either whenever he gets it wrong.
And most nights he falls asleep with her in one arm and a holographic storyreel in the other. He wants to be the sort of parent he only briefly had, the kind he vaguely remembers from his years on Lankiveil.
He dreams of his mother now more than he ever did, and wakes up feeling sorry for how much he falls short. He has no idea how to care for a child, no idea of how to raise her, but he knows he wants to try. Wants to succeed, for her. Marie might not have been an intended child, the way he was, but she was his own flesh and blood and he’d be damned before he made her feel unwanted.
His harpies love her, of course. But he fears they do a bit too much and dismisses them not one month after Marie arrives on the planet. While he’s never indulged, he can only imagine with a frightful shiver how sweet and tender a child’s flesh is.
To the consternation of his people, he flies in tutors from other planets for her. Philosophers from Ecaz, musicians from Chusuk, biologists from Lernaeus, and even a historian from Kaitain itself. She has a Mentat but no Bene Gesserit to serve in her education. His uncle had been wrong about a lot of things, but the scheming of witches was not one of them.
Her bedroom — more white and pale blue than the standard inky black, and decorated with pink ribbons — has a court of dollies on one side and toy swords on the other. Feyd’s love of weaponry does not escape her and, in her childish innocence, she’s fascinated by it all. He takes delight in this, of course, but worries too. Imagining his little child with blood on her hands scares him, and it makes him wonder what sort of person his uncle was to encourage it in him.
In loving her, Feyd’s never felt more unloved himself. Sure, he had his mother and father at one point, but all of that was taken from him when he was Marie’s age. Since then, nobody had cared about him, nobody had even wanted him unless it was to fulfil a purpose. Not his uncle, not his brother, not even Margot…
He comforted himself now that he’d spared Marie of such a fate. His little girl would not become a glorified breeding horse for the Bene Gesserits nor a pawn in the Emperor’s games. He would fill her life with all the things he never had.
Marie grows as the gardens grow, and Feyd begins to speak with the professor from Lernaeus and a retired planetologist from Acline about plans for terraforming Giedi Prime, and one day putting Marie in charge. Her lessons become more structured.
A fact to which she protests, but not for long. She is clever for her age, and understanding, and nobody can explain to her better than Feyd that, although learning can seem useless and boring compared to play, she needs to prepare for the years to come.
“You like the gardens, don’t you?” “Yes…” “And you like eating fruit, right?” “Yes, and smelling flowers.” “What if you could do that all the time, then? Not just in the greenhouses?”
She comes to like the skies of Giedi Prime as well, and the way fireworks look like ink blots. Her every birthday is marked with an array of black and white that make the sky a work of art.
Marie never asks to be the sort of Baroness that always lays around, because Feyd doesn’t do that either. As she grows older he starts to spend more time with her during the day, letting her sit in on meetings, and they debate for hours afterwards on what course the Barony should take. He finds she is more brave than he is, but more reckless too.
“No, little melon, we can’t just declare war on them.” “But why? You know they’re spying on us…” “Yes, but we have no proof.” “Of course we have proof. How would you know otherwise?” “Proof needs to be physical or recorded.” “Let’s record them spying, then.” “Well now they know that we know, so they will have a different approach.” “I still think war would end the problem faster. Or challenge them to a duel!” “I’m getting too old for this…”
They see more of the planet together too, venturing to the caves and crevices that run beneath the surface, taking samples of the native life bubbling in hot springs and collecting crystalline samples.
He takes her to Lankiveil for her fifteenth birthday and they sail together through its icy floes. She loves the sign of whales off in the distance and sounding the ship’s horn, although the local food leaves much to be desired.
“It smells weird.” “It’s fish.” “They stink…” “You want a salad instead?” “Yes, please…”
By the time she turns eighteen, the Emperor has decided to put Arrakis back into Harkonnen hands, and Feyd is terrified. As bad as Giedi Prime is, he wants to see her on Dune even less. Marie can tell this, observant as she is. She’s grown more quiet when she’s thinking and less rash with her decisions, but loud when she wants to be, and daring.
Feyd doesn’t know what to expect of Arrakis anymore and has mixed feelings about it, but he knows one thing for certain: anyone who’s a threat to his daughter there, dies.
“I’ll miss Giedi Prime,” she says as they’re approaching orbit. “It’s finally getting green in places, and rainclouds have begun to form…” “You can go back any time, you know,” says Feyd immediately. “I won’t keep you on this piece of hell…” “I’ll stay,” says Marie. She has the same strange determination she had in her eyes the day they met. “I heard it has old terraforming stations… I’ll want to visit them one day.”
It isn’t easy ruling a desert planet, even one that’s been subdued, but the new spice flow makes it worth it. Feyd keeps Marie close, teaches her everything, watches her grow, and soon she’s sent in delegations reporting to the Landsraad. She represents House Harkonnen better than her great uncle did — and, to Feyd’s pride, better than he ever could.
Bride
Atreides!Reader x Feyd Rautha Harkonnen
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Chapter I
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Blood. Blood everywhere. The torn curtains, the smell of decay. The only thing felt was heavy breathing. Inhale. Exhale.
A child’s breathing.
A window stood open, the morning breeze filtering through the blue curtains next to a grand bed. Splattered in blood .
The blood-
The mangled corpses. Necks ripped open, the dry blood encrusting their limbs. Matted hair.
Knives held in both their hands.
A faint memory of doors slamming open, then the screaming started.
Inhale. Exhale.
“Atreides!-”
“They’re dead!”
Hands grabbing all over, shaking, pulling.
“Oh lord almighty, save us-”
Pulling away. Away from the cold corpses. Away from the smell of death.
“Y/n!”
Inhale. Exhale.
____________________________________________
“Y/n!”
You awoke with a sudden jolt, your hand instinctively going for the blade you kept hidden under your pillow.
“Y/n Atreides, should I be worried?”
You slumped back. It was just-
“I’m fine, Paul.”
He nodded in approval, flashing you a smile as he pulled back from next to you, mustering himself in a proud stance beside your bed at which you couldn’t help but snicker. This, however, did not go unnoticed.
“What, why are you laughing at me?” He asked with the most convincing tone and expression of hurt he could give.
“You look like an idiot, cousin. I’m not the empress, why are you standing like that?” Through giggles, you managed out, watching your cousin relax his stance and sit back down next to you.
A bird's chatter could be heard somewhere outside. You raised your head to look out the window that was directly behind your bed. A misty morning, as always.
Faint drumming of the usual Caladan rain provided a warm sense of comfort. Shaken a bit from your dream, the quiet sounds of nature provided a delicious calm.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?” You asked teasingly. Paul scoffed beside you, throwing himself back on the bed like a damsel in distress.
“Cousin, you wound me! Am I not allowed to visit my best friend in my own home?” he asked, craning his head to look at you as you sat up in bed, the covers slipping off your torso.
“Father sent me to fetch you. Says he has something to discuss with you."Adding on, turning over to lay on his stomach as you throw your legs off the edge on the opposite side of the bed.
“He says it’s important, has he told you anything these days?” You shook your head as you walked over to your closet, picking out a few simple things to wear.
“He did indeed seem a bit off yesterday night.” You added, as you recalled your uncle’s worry stricken face at dinner. It could have just been a bad day.
“You have to tell me what he says, apparently it’s ‘confidential’-” Paul was complaining when a knock sounded on the wooden doors of your room.
“Come in!” they opened to reveal one of your servants, and you smiled pleasantly to greet them.
“The Duke Leto wishes both you and the young master today at a meeting after breakfast, miss.” You nodded, thanking the servant that left as quickly as they came.
“Well now we’ll know exactly what’s going on.” You said grimly, turning to look at Paul who mirrored your expression.
____________________________________________
Laughing briskly, you dodged another piece of egg Paul tried flinging at you, despite his mother’s protests.
He groaned in annoyance, getting cut off as he got a piece of your salad square in the face.
Your fun was swiftly cut off however as Lady Jessica stood up-
“Behave, both of you.”
You felt your entire body going involuntarily numb, your fork being placed by your plate obediently. Paul did the same, only his eyes glinting with the echo of mischief.
“I’m sorry” you both murmured in unison and she sighed, waving you off. She seemed worried, highly unlikely for someone like her.
Blue beams of light fell on her age-worn yet still beautiful face from tall windows of the dining room. The wind rattled outside, swaying the evergreen trees beside your home.
“Get ready for the meeting. It’s a serious matter.” She said firmly, and both you and Paul understood the hidden dismissal.
As you made your way to the sleeping quarters, you ran your hand along the walls. Your fingers gently scraping across the smooth grooves of stone. Your cousin seemed eerily quiet, even ticked off maybe.
“Since father wants us both there, we should probably dress seriously. I saw ships arriving before breakfast, all with the Atreides banner.”
He gave you a knowing look, and you nodded quietly. If so many Atreides are gathering, it indeed is an important matter. You opened the doors to your room, Paul following suit.
“I saw the Reverend Mother.” You said quietly, Paul’s head snapping in your direction. That must be why your aunt seemed so very worried. It was very odd that such a high-ranked Bene Gesserit should attend a house meeting.
You pulled out your dress robe, tossing a similar one to your cousin. Some trinkets flew out of it and clattered down the wooden floor of your room.
“You’re stealing my clothes now?” He grimaced, rolling his eyes as you gave him a quite rude sign with your hand.
“Piss off. You always forget yours around the house.” It was true, at least. However responsible Paul is, the keep is enormous and one could easily lose a thing or two around. He turned around to allow you privacy as you both changed clothes.
You both got dressed in your identical military house uniforms, walking over to the council room. If you recall correctly, your uncle has never summoned you both to a council with the other Atreides representatives.
The large black doors were closed. You turned your head to see Paul watching you. You nodded, pushing the doors open as you both stepped inside.
Windows stretched along the gray walls, allowing blue tinted rays of pale sunlight to scatter through the room, illuminating in the damp, serene light that lay all over Caladan.
Faces turned to look at you from the giant table in the center of the room, guards poised by the far walls.
Almost everyone was already seated, so you and your cousin were shown to two seats right next to the Duke.
You noticed everyone was giving you glances, some of worry, and another emotion you couldn’t quite pin. Shame? Guilt? That was odd.
You felt a knot in your stomach.
“Father sent me to fetch you. He said he has something to discuss with you.”
This was about you. This whole meeting must have been about you. Mind racing, you tried to think of anything you could have done wrong, any mistake you could have made.
It was silly of course, why would so many Atreides gather if you had made some mistake? You were overthinking.
You sat quietly, watching your hands shake on the giant iron table before you.
Paul must have noticed the raging mix of emotions you were experiencing, as you felt his hand find yours, holding it firmly. Grounding you.
A few more people entered the room, more distant relatives, uncles, military generals and so on.
Your uncle sighed, nodding towards the gathered bunch.
“Thank you for coming from all sides of Caladan. I am sorry to disturb you from your homes, but we must discuss a matter of importance.”
Your relatives all smiled and waved dismissively, some eyes still on you. A lump dropped to the pits of your stomach as you recognized one of them as the Reverend Mother’s. Why was the old crone staring at you?
The dark light Caladan’s sun emitted through the layers of clouds and rain that always found their way around their planet seemed to light the room in a quite eerie dark setting.
No longer did the sunlight provide you comfort. Not when the Reverend Mother was looking straight at your soul.
A faint squeeze of your hand was enough proof Paul too, recognized the stare she was giving you.
“It has come to my attention, from the Reverend Mother Gaius Hellen Mohiam, that the parents of my niece, Y/n-”
Oh no. No no no no. All eyes were on you, giving you the attention you did not want. You felt nausea creeping up on you. Large gatherings were never your thing.
Trying to muster yourself, you repeated the litany against fear again and again in your mind.
"I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.”
“-have proclaimed in their death notes that they wish their daughter be married be married into house Harkonnen”
Thunder cracked somewhere outside, rain starting to pour down the wide windows encasing the room.
Now you truly felt like vomiting. Harkonnen? Were they crazy? You knew your parents were quite frenzied prior to their…death, but this? It was utter madness.
Harkonnens. Animals. The most brutal of the galaxy.
You hear Paul yell in disapproval, blurry words that seem to stir no emotion in your mind. Harkonnen. You averted your gaze, but the Reverend Mother seemed to have slithered uncomfortably into your subconscious. Her eyes bore no emotion as she raised her hand.
It took a scarily short while for the Atreides to calm down, and let her say her bidding.
“Letha Atreides was ours. This is a sacred will she and her husband wrote, hence disobeying would be considered treason against all Bene Gesserit.”
More shouts of outrage from your cousin. She did not seem to pay any heed to his venomous words.
“I am aware of your disapproval of house Harkonnen. However, this was arranged a long time ago. The Bene Gesserit have their own reasons for this pairing.”
She made it a point to look at your aunt, who was turning as white as the sea foam that lay scattered over the rocks of your home planet.
“Is this because of my mistake?” she asked quietly, yet the old woman replied nothing, focusing on your uncle instead.
“What say you, Duke Atreides?”
You turned your head toward your uncle that remained as stoic as physically possible. His eyes screamed fury, horror, shame.
“I have raised my niece as my own. My opinions on this are all that you can predict. It shall not happen. I did not raise a daughter for her to be given out like cattle to those bastards.” Slamming his hand on the table with each punctuated word. Clearly displaying unprofessionalism, yet nobody seemed to mind.
The feeling of your throat closing up. So tight, only a whistle of air could pass through it. You clutched Paul’s hand like your life depended on it.
“It is not only your decision to make, Duke. It was arranged long ago. But if it entertains you, we shall put it to a vote.” The witch said matter-of-factly, as if dismissing your uncle in his own home. The dread squeezed your lungs, adrenaline rushing through your body as you struggled to maintain a seemingly indifferent composure.
“All in favor of young miss Y/n Atreides to not be wed, raise your right hand.” Paul's hand let go of yours for a brief period, flying up with speed and feverence you could never predict he possessed.
Uncle raised his hand, the Atreides seal ring gleaming in the room.
Then your aunt’s hand joined his.
A few more members that weren’t Atreides by blood also raised their hands in protest. Thufir Hawat, the family mentat. Gurney Halleck, weapons master and Paul’s personal trainer. Duncan Idaho, best warrior on this side of the universe and one of your and Paul’s best friends.
Your heart dropped to your feet as only a few more of your relatives weakly raised theirs. What was going on?
Everyone else avoided your gaze. Guilt. Shame. Embarrassment. Regret.
“It is decided then. We shall send a message to Geidi Prime immediately. Young Miss Atreides will meet her husband-to-be in one to two weeks' notice, depending on who is chosen.”
You were about to be handed out to a Harkonnen beast.
Harkonnen.
____________________________________________
“This is outrageous! It cannot happen, I shall not allow it!”
Paul raged in your room, pacing around angrily as you sat limply on your bed. Thoughts raced around your mind. A strategy must be conceived. Fast.
Harkonnen.
“I’ll kill the bastard, and that witch! How dare she? I’ll hunt down your parents in hell and kill them again. Horrendous! This is a crime!”
He turned to look at you, his outrage changing to a sympathetic look as he slowly sat down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into an embrace.
You returned it unwillingly.
“No Harkonnen will set foot on this damn planet. No beast like that shall ever touch my sister. I’ll gut the first fat animal that thinks he has the right to you!” He snarled, spitting out the words like venom.
“I can only hope they don’t choose Rabban.” You said quietly, Paul shuddering from the mere mention of his name.
Glossu Rabban, the beast. The most ruthless killer Geidi Prime ever spat out from its hellish grounds. A tyranin, sadistic beyond measure. Oldest nephew and heir to the throne of the Baron.
You had heard stories - the horrible abuse women would endure that ended in them taking their own life. Or worse, him taking their life.
You prayed to whatever god, whatever deity you could remember that you didn’t end up with someone as beastly as him.
Paul was shaking next to you. From frustration or fear, one couldn’t tell.
“I will not let anyone take you from your home. Our home. I’ll throttle that old crone myself-”
You placed a hand on his shoulder, laughing quietly. That was a view you’d like to see. Paul Atreides, strangling an old lady. A sight to behold.
Despite his fury, he gave you a half smile. You couldn’t believe it - in one or two weeks you’ll meet the man you’ll have to spend your life with.
God, what the hell were your parents thinking? More so, why did so few people complain about you being stolen after living on Caladan all your life? Why would such a small number protest? What did you do wrong?
A better question would be how to get out of this mess, but that could wait.
Paul held your hand firmly, lifting it up, looking into your eyes. “I will not let anyone harm you. You know that.” You smiled at his reassuring words.
It was true, your cousin never allowed anyone to get away with hurting you. Memories from your childhood, the two of you running around the keep like the kids you were, and you bumping your head on a piece of furniture.
You remembered that day vividly. Billowy curtains flowing serenely, the rock beneath you slippery from a recent cleaning.
He made a show of screaming at it, then slapping it for ‘revenge’. Paul ended up crying beside you as now he was hurting too. Both of you got scolded and a decent slap to the wrist for such unmanly and unladylike actions.
Fun old times.
You laid back on your bed, staring at the stone ceiling. The faint sound of rain falling could be heard outside. Breathing.
Inhale. Exhale.
As the comforting weight of your cousin vanished as he got up to leave, you closed your eyes, hoping that the universe did not turn its back on you.
You felt your mind slam shut just like the doors of your room as Paul left.
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Generative AI has made me realise Duniverse was so real for having a Butlerian Jihad.
I really fw that ngl
I wouldn't mind having my computer stabbed if it meant ChatGPT would die as well. It is a sacrifice I am willing to make.